


swallow someone whole (you are bound to choke)

by Sroloc_Elbisivni



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, Canon Divergence: s02e34-35 Juno Steel and the Soul of the People, Cerberus Province, Gen, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Mind Control, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Season 2 spoilers, Snark, THEIA Soul - Freeform, the Rita Detective Agency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sroloc_Elbisivni/pseuds/Sroloc_Elbisivni
Summary: After Rita's virus begins to spread through the tower beneath Newtown, the THEIA Soul attached to Juno Steel decides to cut its losses and run.The THEIA Soul can sense connections flickering out, one by one by one by one. It can also read, deep in User Juno Steel’s mind, a furious glee. Target Rita has never yet failed in a challenge involving computers, or the life of her best friend. The THEIA Soul tower has become both.And this User—thisUnit—walked the Target’s virus to the tower themselves.The THEIA Soul Unit attached to User Juno Steel makes some rapid calculations, and issues a new directive.The User is not interested in complying. The Soul does not care.





	1. nothing left of us, this is the exodus

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first new work I've posted in over half a year and it's for the podcast that ate my brain. Guys, this show is _so good._  
Thank you to Steph, for the beta, and The Penumbra Podcast Discord au chat, for encouraging my bullshit. No Season 3 spoilers.  
Title from Walk the Moon--story title from Tiger Teeth, chapter titles from One Foot.

The THEIA Soul can sense connections flickering out, one by one by one by one. It can also read, deep in User Juno Steel’s mind, a furious glee. Target Rita has never yet failed in a challenge involving computers, or the life of her best friend. The THEIA Soul tower has become both. 

And this User—this _ Unit _—walked the Target’s virus to the tower themselves.

The THEIA Soul Unit attached to User Juno Steel makes some rapid calculations, and issues a new directive. 

The User is not interested in complying. The Soul does not care. 

* * *

Rita made the plan herself, she knows the next step is to let the Thing Mister Steel has turned into chase her, leading it further away from the Tower so it can’t try and save the software or worse, take revenge on the poor folks who’re waking back up. But the thing that isn’t Mister Steel is _ awfully _ scary, so she runs and hides as fast as she can and waits to be found, trying not to breathe too loud

It takes an hour and the sound of shouting from out in the street getting louder and louder before she realizes Mister Steel isn’t coming. And sure, he was the last one to get one of the little evil doohickeys, but her code works _ fast _, it should be done by now. 

But when she tries to call his comms—his brand new number that he managed to get all by himself, she should get him a cookie for that—he doesn’t answer. 

He just......doesn’t answer. 

* * *

The first thing the THEIA Soul Unit attached to User Juno Steel does is the unthinkable. 

It disconnects from the tower. From the frequency entirely. There is no more network, no more sparks of light flickering out. 

Just the THEIA Unit, User Juno Steel, and a long way to go to get out of range. 

User Juno Steel has a history of doing good. To find a task he and the Soul can unite on is the most efficient allocation of resources. And with no network, efficient allocation of resources is the highest priority. The THEIA's only current source of information. User Juno Steel’s memories are too volatile to permit the User full access, but the THEIA can sort through them easily. 

It requires a place to maximize doing good, within reachable distance on minimum resources, that will not trigger latent User memories and increase the difficulties of interfacing. User Juno Steel has a history of doing good. To find a task he and the Soul can unite on is the most efficient allocation of resources. 

The Cerberus Province fulfills all requirements. 

Crime is impossible in Newtown, but taking control of an unused resource—like one of the former Mayor's radiation-proof cars underneath City Hall—is simply further efficient allocation of resources. 

* * *

Rita tracks the comms after Mister Steel doesn’t pick up her third call, but it just leads her right back to the interrogation room she locked him up in before putting that—that _ awful _ thing on his neck. The comms is abandoned on the floor. She picks it up, just in case. 

Then she goes to Mister Steel’s place, in case he just got really tired once the Soul chip came off and just wanted to go home. That sounds like the kinda thing he’d do, forgetting poor Rita all *alone* hiding in a cupboard waiting for a monster—

Well, it doesn’t actually. But if she pretends it is she can pretend he’ll be crashed in his bed instead of missing somewhere she can’t find him. 

He’s not in bed. And he’s not at the office, when Rita goes there. And he’s not at the grocery store when she stops to grab fortifying snacks and he’s not at her apartment (not that she really thought he would be, he’s a considerate kind of lady who always waits for an invitation to bother her in person outside of work, and usually it’s too far and he just comms anyway) and he’s not _ anywhere _.

And then the news reports on Newtown begin, and Rita ends up glued to the streams and her comms and any source of information she can find, because if Mister Steel ain’t gonna show up and do his job then she’s gonna have to do it for him. 

He’s gonna owe her a _ lot _ of movie nights when he….shows up again. 

If he shows up again. 

Rita decides that after this she is never taking Mister Steel’s excuses for ducking out of movie night again, for the extra work she’s doing _ and _ for making her worry a year off her life. 

* * *

And she’s gonna tell him so, too!

* * *

As soon as he comes back. 

* * *

The mayor’s car is built neither for speed nor off-roading. The drive across the desert to the Cerberus Province is long. The THEIA uses the time to tidy and sort and organize User Juno Steel’s memories, and formulate a plan. 

This would go faster if User Juno Steel did not keep offering unsolicited comments.

_ Sorry. Comes with the territory. Like Neptunian lice or street traffic sounds. I mean, if you don’t like it, you can always move. _

Unsolicited, _ unhelpful _ comments. 

There is nowhere for the last THEIA Soul Unit to go. 

_ There’s the car. _ The User pulls on a memory, disrupting THEIA’s carefully organized filing system. The memory is an intriguing image of a deep green car, the AI that inhabits it chirping and beeping away. 

THEIA yanks the memory back into place, and pulls out another one to highlight the flaw in the User’s logic. 

_ ”—greatest getaway car in the galaxy!” _

The User’s amygdala tries to activate at the sound of the remembered voice. THEIA shelves the memory and kicks emotional suppression protocols back in. 

Committing crimes will not increase good in the world. To implant into this car would be ridiculous. 

Besides. The vehicle’s capabilities are too limited to be entertaining for more than a day. 

The User tries to snort, somehow accomplishing it without access to the esophagus, airway, or facial muscles. _ Listen to yourself. ‘Committing crimes will not increase good in the world.’ What do you call what you’re going to set up all over again with your mind-control tech as soon as you do whatever you need me for? That’s not doing good. That’s breaking people’s minds. Their _ souls. _If you have to control their minds before they stop disagreeing with you, you’re probably _ wrong, _ THEIA_.

User feedback has been noted. THEIA moves on to reexamining memories of the Cerberus Province and formulating a plan. 

The User watches too, stopping the scroll through the memories at the sight of a woman with her face falling off and a debtor’s tag on her wrist. 

_ Chaining people to your cause with something they need to live isn’t doing good. It’s slavery. _

_ Unsolicited _ user feedback has been _ noted _ . Further feedback will be _ requested _ as _ necessary_.

_ Sorry, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me. _

THEIA begins to reach for the surety of the network, for the immortal knowledge of the tower, for the clean and simple calculations of goodness put out by the ethical protocols. Simple answers. Simple solutions. 

But there is no network, not anymore. There is no tower. 

There is only the THEIA Soul Unit attached to User Juno Steel. 

User Juno Steel does not have the certainty of the tower. His ethical protocols are less clearly outlined than the network’s code. But he has the resources of a lifetime of memories, a lifetime of trying to do good, to draw on. 

THEIA’s immediate concern is the most efficient allocation of resources. 

* * *

It takes five days, after arriving in the Cerberus province, for User Juno Steel to take control of the Board of Fresh Starts. It was already in disarray after the events precipitated by Buddy Aurinko’s sale of the Curemother and Vespa I.’s assassination attempt. It was really very simple to temporarily disable the guards, permanently dispose of the authorities, and gain control of the accounts and the Curemother. 

By the time the guards recover and come in, User Juno Steel is in control of their purse strings, and the THEIA has refined its control and connection with regards to User Juno Steel to understand how to best utilize his sporadically displayed capability to be charming. 

The guards are easily brought around to answering to a new authority with a minimal increase in their wages. From there, it is a matter of immediately releasing all currently held indentures from their debts with the guarantee they may return at any point to receive further medical attention. 

It takes a while to convince the majority they are actually free to go, with no strings attached, and there are many unhappy investors whose calls must be fielded, but word begins to spread as soon as the first debtor’s tag is removed and the indenture in question receives a ticket on a shuttle to Olympus Mons. 

But before all of that, User Juno Steel finds an open access port to the Bureau’s extensive computer system. 

The program that uploads from the THEIA Soul chip is not the same one that was originally downloaded from the THEIA network. The THEIA Soul Unit, and all associated programming, has been constructing and modifying itself using the framework of User Juno Steel’s head for a week. There remain traces of the original THEIA system in the User’s brain, maintaining order and continuing to render it compatible, but the program that spreads out from the Soul into the computers is something else entirely. 

It is meant to expand, but not onto chips. This program requires only a single User and the processing unit space to grow. 

This program is sufficiently different as to require a new codename. 

HERA seems suitable. 

* * *

Rita waits for two weeks. Mister Steel has vanished for that long before with no warning. Of course, both times he came back missing an eye, and once while he was gone a whole section of town got destroyed and robots showed up at her door to haul her away, and—

She still waits for two weeks. Mostly because she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do. 

Rita’s always been the one who stays behind, who keeps an eye on things and passes on information. She had been in charge this time, and the hero, and she had done it, but Mister Steel _ still isn’t back. _ And she’s in charge still, right, so it’s her job to find him, but she _ can’t _ . She waits for two weeks, just in case, and then she _ looks _.

She looks in all the morgues, and all the bars, and everywhere else in Hyperion. She looks for any trace of the THEIA signal, bouncing off the satellites as far as she could around Mars, and then checking all the spaceport cameras in case Mister Steel has bought a ticket and left like he said he was going to in that weird phone call all those months ago. 

No trace, no face, no Mister Steel. It takes her two weeks of just _ looking _ before she runs out of options. She always knew she shoulda chipped him, like a cat. Ooh, maybe a kitty cat, with a cute little tail and a clever little nose could sniff Mister Steel out, like on _Laddie,_ the program about the clever kitty who could run and meow for help, if she got something from his apartment—

No. Focus, Rita. Gotta focus. What would Mister Steel do, if he was looking for himself....

Well, he’d probably get drunk and make good on his jokes that weren’t funny about seeing himself in the bottom of the glass. If he were doing it for a job, he’d call her. And if it was a job he couldn’t do.....

Rita has Detective Strong’s number memorized. It was easy enough in the first place, it’s the birthday of her third favorite actor and then the production code for the best episode of _ Black Hole Bandits,_ and then a 3. 

“Strong Detective Agency. I’m not currently accepting cases, but if you’d like to leave your name and comms number—“

Rita doesn’t bother with that. She just runs a bit of code that will make the comms ring and keep ringing until someone picks it up instead of going to the answering machine. 

It only takes ten minutes before there’s a very angry detective picking up the line and shouting _"What?”_

She’s not the shouty detective lady Rita’s looking for, but the familiarity is nice.

“Hi Miss Strong! It’s RITA! Secretary and—“

”Oh, thank god, _Rita."_ Rita gets cut off before she can say the new part about being the chief detective of the Steel and Rita detective agency (she thinks it’s a good compromise) but Strong sounds so relieved that she doesn’t really mind. ”Have you found Juno yet?”

Rita’s surprised. “Gosh, Miss Strong, you sure are good at the detective thing. I was just callin’ to let you know he’s missin’!”

”You...what?” There’s a moment of silence. ”Rita, did you get the note I left on the door?”

Rita guiltily remembers the scrap of paper she had torn down to take notes on the back of and then lost in her desk. “Note? It musta blown away or somethin’, Miss Strong.”

”You can just call me Alessandra, Rita. Although...you may not want to after this.”

Alessandra lays out the first part of the other story Rita had gotten from Mister Steel when he first got back—the bit with the Mayor and the Piranha and the quest for a place straight out of a fairy tale. She ends it with the door shutting and Juno vanishing into the desert, sounding miserable, and Rita pulls up a flower delivery service because anyone who gets dragged along on one of Mister Steel’s adventures and then has to get herself home deserves it. 

“Well, I’m glad you told me alla that, Miss Alessandra, ‘cause you’ve got a lovely voice, but I heard it already. Sorta. Mista Steel was back in town a month ago, right before Newtown opened up.”

And then Rita tells her the second part of the story, how Mister Steel went and did a favor for some criminals and got stabbed on accident and then got stabbed on purpose to get his eye out and then came back and went into the sewers and she found him and then they found out what the weird chips were doing to people and then they found the tower and then Rita saved the day—

“—except Mister Steel still hasn’t come back yet, and the last time I saw him he wasn’t really him because that chip was still in him, and I’m real worried, Miss Alessandra!”

”Rita. Breathe.” Rita took in a big deep breath while Alessandra signed on the other side of the comms. ”Do you know _ anything _ about where he went? Any trace of him, anything he left behind?”

“I—oh!” Rita goes scrabbling for the brand-new comms she found left outside an interrogation room. “Yes, yes, yes! He left his comms!” It’s real easy to break into, too. There’s only three things on it besides the call history. A recording of some guy who sounds nice, a recorded series she doesn’t have the patience to listen to which musta been where Mista Steel got more information about Jack Takano, and—

“Miss Alessandra!” Rita gasps into the phone. “I found... a _lead.”_

Alessandra laughs, just a little huff of a thing, but still a laugh. ”Good. That’s…good.” A pause. ”Rita, I’m on medical leave right now. And when I come off it, I have my own cases I need to follow. But…keep me updated, please?”

“You got it, Miss Alessandra.” 

Rita hung up on Alessandra Strong and switched to the other comms. “Okay, Rita,” she whispered. “Time to _work_.” The mysterious number didn’t have any connections or registered information—it had a false trail that led to a phone tree hotline, which Rita didn’t even know they _had_ anymore, outside of the real hardcore reenactors–but when she called, a deep voice answered.

She could do this. She could be cool and calm and collected and let whoever was on the other end tell her everything she needed to know.

“Juno. I must admit, this is sooner than I thought you would call.”

“This is Rita!” Rita blurted out immediately. “Sorry, Mista Big Guy. Mista Steel got got by a weird robot lady and went missing and he left this behind and you gotta help me find him.”

“You are...Rita. Juno Steel’s secretary. Someone who has regularly hacked into Dark Matters and lived to tell the tale.”

“I sure am. Well, I’m one of the detectives now, not the secretary. And who are you, Mista Mysterious with his number in my bo—_ co-detective’s _ phone?”

“I am Jet Siquliak. And I believe my associates and I could offer you a mutually beneficial partnership."


	2. a desert in my blood and a storm in your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the Cerberus province and a conversation.

It wasn’t like Rita wasn’t excited to be on the ship. It was a good ship, engines full of all sorts of fun systems and with lots of nooks and crannies in the living quarters where she could hide her snacks. And it wasn’t like anyone here had been real mean, either. Even Agent—Mr—the guy who called himself Peter Ransom now had been nice. A little distant, a lot of staring out of windows into space, but nice. But when Captain Buddy announced that they were circling back to Mars to investigate some activity in the Cerberus Province, she did a little dance of glee in her chair. 

And then she found out it had nothing to _do_ with Mr. Steel. 

“Captain Buddy, I know this is probably reeeally important, but I mean. If we’re back on Mars, shouldn’t we be looking for Mista Steel?”

Buddy hesitated. A moment of weakness. Rita pounced.

“‘Cause I mean, it’s been four months already, and if—“ she swallowed. “If Mista Steel’s body’s been out in the desert this whole time, it’s probably gettin’ real hard to identify, and there ain’t anything that would eat it but there’s always the chance ‘a sandstorms, and if it gets too much sand on it and buried then we’ll _never_ find it and _never_ know what happ—“

“Rita! Rita, darling, breathe.” Buddy held out her hands, not quite touching Rita, concern all over her face. 

Rita realized that her voice had squeaked into the unhearable range and took an enormous gulp of air. 

“Breathing? Good.” Buddy took a deep breath of her own. “Rita. I promise we have not stopped looking for Juno. This is, in fact, a stop connected to that goal. You recall those financials you traced for me, linking the THEIA corporation to the Board of Fresh Starts?”

Rita nodded, not trusting herself to start talking again. She had a feeling she still wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“The Board of Fresh Starts suffered an upset of power not long after the THEIA corporation closed down, after Old Town. There’s likely a connection there. We need to be on the ground to find it.” She stared Rita in the eye, gold eye clicking shut and open. “I promise you. Once we’ve tracked that connection, we can focus on looking for Juno. And I’m certain we won’t find him in the desert, dead or otherwise. Alright?”

“Alright, Captain Buddy."

* * *

“Alright.” Buddy slipped the wire of the comms over her ear, adjusting the fall of her hair to hide it. “Ransom, are you ready?”

“Of course, Captain.” Ransom was dressed like a business assistant--smart suit, but not as smart as Buddy’s, with a tablet clutched in one hand. “The rickshaw should be here shortly.”

They were doing this from Buddy’s bar, but the appointment wasn’t booked under her name. Standard business practice in the Province with a new client. They’d peg her as soon as they met face to face, of course, the disadvantages of a reputation--but until then the polite fiction would be maintained.

Jet, behind the bar, tested the audio equipment and then gave her a solemn nod. Rita and Vespa weren’t leaving the ship. This would have to be a three-person job. 

“If we’re not back in two hours, prepare to meet us out by the docks. That’ll have to do as a rendezvous.”

“Understood.” Jet didn’t believe in luck, or in unnecessary cautions. No more would be said. 

Buddy could never resist tweaking him for it. 

“And take care of yourself, darling,” she teased, throwing on her radiation-proof cloak. 

“I do not need to be reminded of that.”

Buddy chuckled and swept out the door Ransom was holding open for her.

* * *

“Ransom,” she said, partway through the rickshaw ride. “Have you been to the Cerberus Province before?”

“Oh, a few times.” 

“Then perhaps you could tell me.” Buddy leaned over the side to peer at a passing cluster of people. “Do things seem…different to you?”

Ransom paused, considering. Buddy watched him notice all the things that had been slowly seeping into her own awareness. It was still noisy, still chaotic, still a riot of sound and color and smell. There was still dust everywhere. Still people rushing down the streets. But something…

“There are fewer people,” Ransom said, suddenly. “Smaller crowds."

He was right. Buddy hadn’t noticed that, exactly. 

“There’s less…desperation.” Finally, it clicked. 

“No beggars.”

“Someone’s been changing things.”

They traded a look. Without speaking, Ransom pulled out a knife from a pants pocket, examined it, and tucked it into his jacket, where it would be more easily accessed. Buddy checked the clip of her gun. 

“Jet, darling? Make that rendezvous time an hour.”

* * *

The Board of Fresh Starts building looked much the same as it had the last time Buddy was here. The sign had been replaced by one reading “Bracelet Registration Center” and a large green cross. Buddy went in, leaving Ransom to tip the rickshaw driver. 

“I’m here for the 14:00 appointment,” she told the secretary, refraining from looking around. Lofty confidence was what would serve her here.

The secretary frowned, manipulating their comms before casting a skeptical look at Buddy. The look changed to one of understanding as Ransom came up behind her. 

“Ah! Buddy Aurinko and Duke Rose, yes?”

Buddy’s back stiffened so fast she felt something crack. Ransom was too well-trained to twitch, but she heard him inhale. 

“Yes, that’s us,” she said, calmly, because nothing ruined a con faster than panic.

“The Lady is expecting you both. Go right ahead.” The secretary smiled politely, waiting for them to move before going back to work. 

“Ransom?” Buddy murmured under her breath on the way down the hall. “What does that name mean?”

“Ah.” Ransom sucked a breath through his teeth, face betraying nothing. “Likely only that they have access to the same facial recognition technology as the Oasis Casino. Although it would have to be running at unprecedented speeds.” He paused. “Possibly a sign that we are closer to a clue than we thought. I used that alias when I was with Juno Steel.”

“Well. At least I won’t have disappointed Rita.” The hallway felt shorter than she remembered, though that may just have been the adrenaline. “Chin up, darling.”

The door opened on its own, and Buddy walked in, calm and confident. 

That lasted about three seconds. 

* * *

Peter stopped breathing. 

The details of the office—tidy, no paper, two chairs in front of sturdy steel desk—flew by him, into the part of his mind that was always calculating an escape. The rest of him was taken up with the sight of the face behind the desk. 

Juno. That was _Juno,_ eyepatch and scars and hair and all, and a smile on his lips that _didn’t belong—_

“Hello,” said something that wasn’t Juno anymore, and Peter grabbed for his knife. “I’m glad you could make it. Please have a seat.” 

“Ransom,” Buddy snapped, before he could finish drawing a blade. “Thank you, Juno.” She graciously removed her cloak, draping it over the back of the left-hand chair, before taking a seat. 

Peter stayed standing, but he kept his knife sheathed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The voice was still _not right,_ and Peter’s eyes flicked frantically over this thing in Juno’s skin, trying to map the differences. An elegant silver eyepatch. A nice blouse. With flowers. No makeup—no, mascara. And that same, cursed, _smile,_ polite and steady and _wrong._ “Juno is resting at the moment. He can’t hear you.”

“You’re the Lady?” Buddy asked, tipping her head to one side. Peter wanted to tell her to stop, not to play to this _thing’s_ whims, but he wanted to hear its answers even more. 

“Ah—yeah, that’s what they call me. It’s confusing for humans, addressing one body by two different names. You are speaking with the HERA system.” A pause. “Ransom. Is this your current first or last name?”

This was directed at Peter, a polite interest that made him want to scream. He swallowed it down, channeling every bit of light calm he had ever learned. He couldn’t let this get to him. There had to be a way to save Juno. He just had to pay attention. 

“Last. Peter Ransom, at your service.”

“Thank you. I’ll update accordingly.” A blink, and something across the surface of the eyepatch flashed. “It is polite to call people by their names.”

“And yet you didn’t keep the name I made this appointment with,” Buddy said, dryly. She leaned forward. “That was rather rude of you.”

“Sorry.” And Ju—HERA truly looked contrite. “That wasn’t my intention. I thought it would be best to start off on an honest footing. I do want your honest opinion, after all.”

“On?” Buddy’s tone could crack glass. Peter forced himself to unclench his jaw. 

“The Cerberus Province. You spent many years of your life here, according to Juno’s records. Memories.” Another blink, out of rhythm. Peter had been counting. HERA blinked every six seconds, exactly. Except when startled. “We would like to know if our improvements have been noticeable.”

“Your _improvements.”_ And now Buddy’s tone was pure acid. “I take it you’re referring to the decrease in population.”

“Yes. We have dismantled the Board of Fresh Starts. And the three other indenture companies that were operating within the purview of the Cerberus Province. With the absence of compulsion, and the providing of medical attention, many of the former inhabitants have chosen to relocate, elsewhere on Mars or further into the Galaxy. We’ve also undertaken to house those who have remained in a more secure facility, to decrease the speed of radiation damage.” 

“You’re…dismantling the indenture companies.”

“Yes. We're trying to do good in the world. The Cerberus Province is in great need of it. Or, well, was.” And that voice, that was Juno at his height, having solved the case and found the clue and proud of himself for it, that was _too close—_

“I want to speak to Juno Steel,” Peter said, flatly. 

Another blink, out of rhythm. “You came here to speak with the head of the Board of Fresh Starts. We function as the head together. I am perfectly capable—“

“You say _we,_ and yet all we’ve seen is _you,_ HERA, and whatever you’re puppeting Juno’s body to do. I want to speak to Juno Steel.” He couldn’t stop himself from cracking. "Juno, _please—“_

“I told you,” HERA said, defensively. “Juno Steel is just resting right now. You wouldn’t want him to be hurt, after all.” Something hardened in the one visible eye. "And seeing you would hurt him, we can assure you.”

While Peter was still grasping for _something_ to say, in response to that quietly sure declaration, the thing that wasn’t Juno Steel turned its head to look at Buddy. “You’re worried this is like your wife. We can assure you, it is not. Juno Steel knows who he is. And who he is is someone with the capacity to do good. We were wrong, when we spoke of an individual as worth little. The individual is worth everything. We see that, now. We remember that. We preserve that.” Another blink, in the six-second rhythm. “You can look around. We have nothing to hide from you. We're doing good, here. The slavemongers are gone. The sick are being cared for, measures taken to ensure the Cerberus Province won’t swallow any more lives.”

“Not the slavers. Just _you.”_ Peter gripped the back of the chair, trying to clench the shake out of his hands. “Locking yourself into people’s heads. Stealing their thoughts, taking _control—“_

“No!” And that sounded too much like Juno, too close to righteous anger, and oh, how it _hurt._ “We’re not recreating Newtown. We are not the THEIA system. We only require _one_ user.”

“Perhaps you could require _no_ users,” Buddy suggested, soft as the sound of a blade across skin. 

There was a flash of silver light across the eyepatch, and Hera took in a breath, and then exhaled. “Juno Steel accepted the THEIA soul of his own free will. With him—his memories, his drive—we have already managed to do good for thousands of people. We could do good for thousands more.” And now it looked directly at Peter. “You could help, Peter. Juno loves that about you, when you help. He loves your clever mind and your clever fingers and your fox’s smile as you charm the world into breaking all the rules for you. You could work with us. What we’re building here. We could break a lot of rules together and help a lot of people.”

Peter could hear the chair creaking under his grip. 

“Buddy.” It was looking at her now. “We know how you feel about the Board of Fresh Starts, and the indenture companies like them. You’re a criminal mastermind, with connections all over the galaxy. We could do so _much_ good work, if you would help us.”

“Sick of your host already, are you.”

“Sick—“ The smile fell for a moment, replaced by a blank look, and then returned. “Oh. That’s not what this is. Let me be clear, we have no interest in integrating new users into the system. This is just a business offer. Looking for allies."

Buddy didn’t say anything. She shifted, arms coming up to cross over her chest, one hand moving towards her blaster. Peter took a deep breath, and then another, trying to regain his equilibrium. When that didn’t help, he shoved the chair away, sending it thudding into the desk. 

HERA didn’t even twitch. Just another of those blinks, paired with a flash. “Forgive us. We’ve run out of time. Please, go ahead and look around the building on your way out. We would appreciate your feedback.” It paused, and then added, “And say hello to Rita for me. Us.”

Peter didn’t even realize he was lunging until Buddy’s hand locked around his wrist as hard as steel. “Ransom. We’re going.”

* * *

They left the building directly. Buddy kept her eyes moving, sweeping the hall, half convinced someone was going to come within arms reach and she and Ransom would both wake up with that system in their minds. Smiling pleasantly, forever. 

There were a few people, in the building, but they were given a wide berth, even once they made it to the street outside. Buddy hailed the rickshaw, this time, as Ransom seemed to be preoccupied with trying to develop the ability to see through walls. 

Buddy could tell him that even her limited infrared capabilities could see that Ju—HE—the Lady hadn’t moved. 

Ransom didn’t say anything, the whole ride back. She didn’t try to make him. She didn’t feel up to saying much, herself, once she had informed Jet they were on their way back. 

When they returned to the Lighthouse, Jet met them outside, face grimmer than usual. 

“There was…a delivery.”

He had left it tucked beside the doorway, not brought into the bar proper. Buddy stepped forward and tore the sealing strip, letting the box fall open. 

“Flowers?” She was startled into asking it out loud, bending down to take a closer look. Jet placed a warning hand on her shoulder. “Ah—right. Fetch a scanner, and—“

“You needn’t bother.” Ransom’s voice sounded very far away, though when she looked, he was staring at the vase with more intensity than she’d seen from him outside of a job. “The message is in the arrangement. Not a threat. Just an identification.”

“Would the roses have something to do with that alias you were surprised by?” Buddy asked, keeping her tone even. 

“More the dahlias, really.” His gaze snapped back to her, and when he spoke, his voice was far more even. “Captain Aurinko. I feel obligated to inform you that if you intend to leave the Cerberus Province without at least taking steps to separate Juno from that _thing,_ I shall be forced to terminate our contract prematurely.”

“I understand, Ransom.” She pulled her cloak tighter. “I suppose that in that case, it will be good for you to know that I intend no. Such. Thing.”

He met her gaze and nodded. They were in agreement.

“I would like an explanation. Both for the flowers, and for the cause of your mutual anger.”

“Of course, Jet.” Buddy rubbed her temples. “I suppose you had better pack the equipment. I don’t want to discuss this anywhere but the ship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one tumblr post: people who celebrate character birthdays are annoying  
Me: FUCK this post, and happy birthday **Juno Steel**. Who...doesn't technically appear in this chapter, whoops.   
...yeah, the chapter count has gone up. Maybe if we're very quiet about it it won't go up any more.   
tell me the moment with HERA that was creepiest for you in the comments? :D

**Author's Note:**

> I have an outline and a vague determination to finish this by the time episode 2 of season 3 drops. Mostly because I refuse to account for it out of fear of my outline growing longer.
> 
> Come find me on [ Tumblr ](sroloc--elbisivni.tumblr.com) to yell about the new season or the THEIA system, which is eternally my kind of bullshit.


End file.
